Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/52

 And declared that such a headpiece Many a Prince down there might envy; Till the cob your father gave him, With a sledge to boot, in thanks For his pleasant, friendly talk.— Ah, but things went bravely then! Provost, Captain, all the rest, Dropped in daily, ate and drank, Swilling, till they well-nigh burst. But 'tis need that tests one's neighbour. Lonely here it grew, and silent, From the day that "Gold-bag Jon" Started with his pack, a pedlar.

[Dries her eyes with her apron

Ah, you're big and strong enough, You should be a staff and pillar For your mother's frail old age,— You should keep the farm-work going, Guard the remnants of your gear;—

[Crying again.

Oh, God help me, small's the profit You have been to me, you scamp! Lounging by the hearth at home, Grubbing in the charcoal embers; Or, round all the country, frightening Girls away from merry-makings— Shaming me in all directions, Fighting with the worst rapscallions—-

[Turning away from her.]

Let me be.